


you don't get to choose who cares about you

by daisylincs



Series: Agents of Birthdays [24]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Agents of Birthdays, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), BAMF Melinda May, Dojo Owner Melinda May, F/F, Flirting, Gift Fic, Happy Birthday Bree!!, Healing, Melinda May Is a Good Bro, Skye | Daisy Johnson Needs a Hug, Sparring, Women Being Awesome, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29702667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisylincs/pseuds/daisylincs
Summary: After the loss of her third boyfriend in three years, Daisy Johnson just wants to work out all her tumultuous emotions on the local dojo's punching bag - but May's Dojo, specifically the May of May's Dojo, is not going to let her off that easy.
Relationships: Melinda May/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Series: Agents of Birthdays [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886911
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	you don't get to choose who cares about you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [26stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/gifts).



> Dear Bree,
> 
> Ahhhh, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, love!! 😍🤗 I hope you had an absolutely INCREDIBLE day today, regardless of COVID craziness, and that you managed to find something delicious to eat and delightful to do to celebrate ❤️
> 
> Now, as is my little tradition for birthday fics, allow me to go back in time a little bit and be nostalgic about the first time that I met you - it was right about in the second wave of lockdown, I think, and my chief memory is just how immediately _comfortable_ I felt in your chat. Like: you're a teacher, too, and I think that you're just a very easy, natural person to be around, and share things with. And as an added bonus, you're absolutely HILARIOUS, too, and so incredibly talented!!
> 
> Oh my gosh, _what_ talent, though - you really just write fantastically well, and you can get me to read (and write!!) all kinds of things I never would otherwise. This very fic is an example, actually, haha - I've never tried my hand at Maydaisy romantically before, but I was positively enchanted to do it for you. (😝 YES, lmao, that was meant to be a Taylor Swift reference - I'm obsessed with making references, haha, and I know you like T Swift, too, so... perfection, perfection xD.) 
> 
> So yeah!! I really, reallly hope that you like this fic, and my take on these wonderful women ❤️ Once again from the bottom of my heart - HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 🥰

Daisy sometimes wondered if there was an award for worst relationship history - because if so, she'd be right up there with the best of him. 

Why? Oh, just the tiny little detail that her boyfriend - her steady, square-y, should-have-been-a-secure-bet-if-all-else-fails boyfriend - had just _left_ her. He had been ridiculously decent about it, of course, going on about how he "didn't want to limit her" and he "could see she wasn't getting everything she wanted out of this relationship."

He was right, but still, it stung. 

He was the third guy in three years to break up with her like that - just pack up and leave her with no real explanation, other than a vague _things just weren't working out._

Now, Daisy had always hated pessimism - growing up in an orphanage, goodness knows she had seen enough of it, and in fact had at some point stubbornly decided that staying optimistic would be her private rebellion against what was expected, as well as her way to stay sane. It had always worked out well for her. 

But today, she couldn't help the flood of bitter fury - and, worse, dull hopelessness - that rose up in her chest. 

If everyone she had ever been with left her - parents, every foster family, every boyfriend - what did that say about _her?_

Maybe she just… wasn't meant for love, and acceptance, and happy endings. Maybe she simply wasn't one of the people who got those things. 

Her heart twisted sharply in her chest, and almost without thinking about it, she took a left turn when the first off-ramp presented itself. 

She just wanted to _hit_ something. 

… _No,_ merciful heaven, not hit something with her _van -_ she was far, far, far too sentimental about it, and far, far, far too poor to have it fixed afterwards. 

No, she wanted to hit something _herself,_ physically hit it, and watch it swing violently away from her fists. 

And by some amazing stroke of chance, the off-ramp she had taken just _happened_ to have a turn-off nearly labelled _May's Dojo._

Smiling darkly to herself, Daisy turned in and parked her car right in front of the door, not even bothering to smile at the girl crouched in _seiza_ by the door. 

"Daisy Johnson, krav maga and jujitsu, I'll pay whatever's due when I'm done," she rapped out, already kicking off her shoes and jacket and stepping onto the mat. 

The girl opened her mouth to protest, but one look at Daisy's narrowed eyes and curled fists stopped her in her tracks. She dipped her head in a quick nod. 

Content, Daisy walked over to the punching bags, feeling a slow tingle of approval pass through her as she inspected their setup. Whoever had laid out this dojo had known exactly what they were doing - everything was perfectly in place according to her standards, and nothing took too much room or seemed redundant. There were no unnecessary fripperies, either - apart from a couple of crossed ceremonial swords and the traditional dojo name inscripted in Chinese, the room was bare of decoration. 

As it should be, Daisy thought. Dojos weren't art galleries - they were _supposed_ to be focused on the martial art, not how cool they made their users look. Exactly like this one! While it was spacious and airy, all that space was used practically with training mats, punching bags or wooden weapon stands. Everything had its place, simple and effective and no-nonsense. 

Daisy liked it. She really, really liked it. 

Leaning back on her heels, she shifted into her fighting stance, bending her legs slightly to lower her centre of mass and curling her fingers into fists. 

Then she struck, hitting the punching bag as hard and fast as she could. 

She felt a dark, primal kind of satisfaction course through her when it swung violently away from her, shuddering on its string. 

When it returned to her, she hit it again, harder. 

And again. 

Again. 

At last, a woman's voice spoke up behind her, cool and disapproving. "Are we going to talk about the fact that you haven't wrapped your hands?" 

Daisy glanced down at her knuckles, which were just beginning to bruise, then resumed her attack on the bag. "We are not," she gritted out between punches. 

The woman, whoever she was, moved in front of her, catching hold of the punching bag with surprising strength. "I don't like to pry in other people's business," she said, still firmly holding onto the bag, "but this is my dojo, and I'm not letting you hurt yourself in here." 

Grudgingly, Daisy stepped away from the punching bag, crossing her arms. "This is your dojo? You're May?" 

"In the flesh," the woman agreed with a crisp nod, stepping around the punching bag to shake Daisy's bruised hand. 

As they shook, Daisy got her first look at the woman, feeling her eyebrows lift slightly in surprise. She was Asian, and shorter than Daisy had been expecting, but there was something distinctly determined in her dark eyes, something that clearly said, _don't mess with me._

She thought there might have been a flash of kindness, too, of _compassion,_ even, as the woman brushed her thumb quickly over Daisy's bruised knuckles. 

"Let's get you patched up," she said, and though her voice was brusque, Daisy caught that hint of kindness again. 

She followed May, albeit reluctantly, past the rest of the punching bags and into a small office, where May directed her to sit down on the desk. Without giving Daisy much choice about it - or much time to argue - she wrapped Daisy's hands, first in bandages, and then in proper punching tape. 

Flexing her fingers as much as the wrapping would let her, Daisy had to admit, grudgingly, that that felt better. 

"Thank you," she said, looking at her hands instead of at May's face. 

May didn't quite smile, but there was a hint of a sparkle in her dark eyes as she nodded. "No problem. Now - you look like you still need to work some things out, how long has it been since you've had a decent sparring partner?" 

Daisy's eyebrows shot up for the second time in as many minutes, and she bit down the tiny smirk that threatened to tug at her lips. _She didn't mean it like_ that, _God._ Obviously, May had been talking about sparring on the mats. 

Still, the answer to, ah, _both_ questions was a resounding "a long time ago." The uninspiring straight white boys she had spent so much time dating really weren't much to write home about - in fact, they had almost all been very mediocre both in the gym and in the bedroom. 

Ugh. 

May must have read the answer on her face, because she snorted, reaching into her drawer to pull out a set of hand wraps for herself, too. "Let me help you out," she said, already fitting the wraps around her hands. "Do you want to go a few rounds?" 

Once again, Daisy had to bite back on that smirk, hard. _Mind out of the gutter, Johnson._

But she couldn't help thinking, _I really wouldn't mind going a few rounds, actually._

Aloud, though, she just said, "Well, I guess you _would_ be a slightly more challenging partner than a punching bag." 

The smirk on May's face when she said that was positively _devilish,_ and she actually crooked her fingers in a come-hither motion at Daisy. "I'll show you a challenge," she said, her voice laden with promise as she walked out onto the mats. 

And Daisy found herself grinning, really _grinning,_ as she followed May out onto the mat. 

May was waiting for her, leaning back slightly in a comfortable, natural-looking fighting stance, and Daisy felt her respect for the woman shoot up. That was one _hell_ of a starting position - because simple as it might look to the unpracticed eye, May was actually preparing her body for one of the hardest offence moves in krav maga. 

For the first time feeling a tiny prickle of apprehension, Daisy prepared her own stance, curling her hands up to protect her face…

… and promptly found herself flat on her back. 

_What._

She hadn’t even had time to _blink,_ let alone see that move coming! 

“I wasn’t ready!” she protested, swatting May’s hand away and leaping to her feet. 

May’s eyes glinted. “You should be ready the moment your foot touches the mat.” 

And… okay. _Okay._ If that was how she wanted to play it - Daisy could grant her that. 

Instead of wasting either of their time again, she dropped into a jujitsu stance and attacked with a spinning kick while May was still gesturing with her hands.

To her credit, May ducked the kick smoothly, catching Daisy’s leg and using it as a lever to send her crashing down to the ground. At the last moment, though, Daisy managed to flip herself in mid-air, landing a little awkwardly but securely on her feet instead of flat on her back again. 

(A tiny part of her spared the time to think that it wouldn’t be the _worst_ to be flat on her back if it was May on top of her.

The rest of her, though, was hyper-focused on May and their fight now.)

May gave her a half-surprised but impressed look, and Daisy let a small, proud little smile pull at her lips for the briefest second before spinning into an attack again. 

And true to her word, May gave her one hell of a challenge - for the entirety of the afternoon. Then for at least three hours into the night, as well. 

Daisy didn’t think she had ever been more exhausted than when she slapped the mat after their umpteenth fight, too exhausted to heave herself up and instead just remaining sprawled on her side, staring blankly at the wooden walls of the dojo. 

She didn’t think she had ever been more exhausted - and yet she had never felt more _alive_ than she did at that moment. 

Every time she had locked eyes with May from across the mat, she had felt an electric thrill of competition shoot through her from head to toe - competition, and _just maybe_ something else too. Her heart was still beating; hammering, but she was starting to think that maybe it wasn’t just because of her exhaustion.

Oh, this was what she had been _missing_ \- an actual, fully competent partner. In every sense of the word. 

“Hey,” May said suddenly from above her, and Daisy glanced up to see her holding out a hand to pull her up. Unlike earlier that same day, Daisy gripped it immediately, holding on for perhaps a _second_ longer than strictly necessary after she had regained a standing position. 

“If you’re done working all your issues out, would you like to come to the bar and work something else out with me?” May asked, catching Daisy’s eye and holding her gaze directly. 

Her heart jumped into her throat, and she felt that same sparking, electric feeling of delighted anticipation fizzing through her body again. 

Earlier today, she had been tearing herself up so much about never being meant for love, and never getting to have a happy ending, hadn’t she? 

Well… maybe she had just been looking in the wrong place.

Daisy took a little step towards May, licking her dry lips quickly and curling her fingers into excited fists by her sides to keep them still. 

She only had one thing to say to her, and it was -

“Why wait to take it to the bar?” 


End file.
